


addict with a pen

by kittenclemmings



Category: Michael Clifford/ Luke Hemmings - Fandom
Genre: Other, Recreational Drug Use, brief mentions of sex i guess, depressed mikey, sad mikey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4828055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenclemmings/pseuds/kittenclemmings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael writes a note to Luke after Luke gets a girlfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is really short but I had to write something pertaining to luke dating arzaylea or whatever the hell her name is ... emo michael for ya
> 
> the title is from Addict With A Pen by Twenty One Pilots which I totally recommend especially for emo mikey

Dearest Luke,

Hi. I'm gonna preface this by saying this letter will be absolute shit, and it most likely won't really help you understand what I'm feeling. Fuck it. 

You were my saving grace. As much as I'm breaking writing this, and as shaky as my hands are writing it, I just want you to know that what you gave me was amazing.

You gave me this sense of home, a warm feeling blooming in my chest, you made my heart swell when you looked at me and I just want to, like, thank you. Thank you so much for making me feel loved and making me feel beautiful, like I meant something. I was such an emo little shit, Luke. And yet you still were so kind to me when I was such a fucking asshole. I'm also thanking you for giving me a chance. Jesus, Luke, I loved you, okay? 

I like to think you loved me too.

I like to believe you kissed me, you fucked me, you held me because you loved me. I like to think that cute little laugh and smile was there because I made you feel happy. I was so nieve, so blinded. Why would anyone really care that much? True love like that only happens in stories.

Nevertheless, I'd like to thank you for all of those times you barged in the bathroom door, seeing me curled up and crying like a fucking wimp and holding me, brushing my hair back until my breathing calmed down. You saved my life, Luke. Really. 

Thank you for showing me how love in movies, in romance novels should be. Thank you for showing me how it could come crashing down as easily as you build it. Thank you for showing me that pain is caused by happiness, no matter if it is dwindling. You showed me immense pain, right now. Or, I guess I did that one. I may get some teardrops on this paper, so sorry.

I remember when you laid next to me, looking at my ceiling (by the way, the little crack from you trying to jump and touch it is still fucking there you idiot) and talking about the future. I remember you said you would always be there for me, you would make sure that no matter what, we stuck together, whatever we were. I kissed you. I fucking KISSED you Luke. And you kissed back and I felt like the world stopped for a little, and every touch was a spark and God dammit I was on fire. Maybe I'm the problem. I was pretty stupid to think you were telling the truth.

But, God dammit, where ARE you?

Do you fucking know how much I've cried, how I've been falling apart and breaking behind closed doors and nobody notices?? I used to be able to depend on you, depend on you to dry my tears and snuggle me to sleep. I used to kiss you, drunk or sober, with my heart on fire, and I felt like I was the only boy in the world. It was just me, though. Who would want me.

What was I to you? Was I a friend? A boyfriend? Did you even fucking love me, Luke? Was I blind, or did it feel like you made love to me and we didn't just fucking 'have sex'. I just want to know, was it just me?? I'm so done with feeling like this Luke. I'm so done with feeling vulnerable, broken and depressed. You know how I get. I'm just a suicidal headcase, anyone else would be much better. They would be normal. You wouldn't have to calm them down as they're having a panic attack, you wouldn't have to wipe their tears on your favorite shirt. You wouldn't have to try to love them. It was work to love me. I know.  
It's work to love myself, too. 

I hope she shows you all of those feelings you've blessed me with. I hope she gives you the aching in your chest and I hope she makes you blush and smile and I hope you get goosebumps every time she touches you. I hope you're happy Luke. And I really, truly do. I'm not being a raging ass. I hope you feel like you're in love and I hope you're right, because being wrong is the worst pain I've ever felt. Thank you for making me feel loved for our little eternity, thank you for saving my life.

I'm taking a break from the whole band thing. I hope that's okay.

-Michael


	2. i miss you, i'm so sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke writes a letter to Michael in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because it was recommended I write a response, lol fuck me up

Mikey,

I miss you. 

I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I played you. I admit that. I hurt you. I used you. I put you in situations that someone as vulnerable as you shouldn't be put in.

And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made you feel love when I wasn't planning to give you all of me. I didn't think, Michael. I thought we could have these things and not feel committed. I went too far and I hurt you. 

And I'm still avoiding my feelings. You know how I am. I run from all my problems and I just kept denying and denying and denying everything that may pose a change. I wasn't ready for a love that epic, that strong. I wasn't ready to spill my heart on the table and I wasn't ready to commit. I wasn't strong enough to console and support you, even though you thought I was. I saved you, but I was breaking too. Believe me.

I loved you. I was afraid of how much I loved you. I was scared about the feeling in my heart, the chaos that ensued in my heart and the electricity in my hand when it touched you. I was afraid of the passion in our sex, the euphoria I had before we even- you know. You're so beautiful, and so incredible and I hope you find somebody who treasures you and treats you better than I did. You're amazing and I honestly don't go a day where I don't think of your crazy kitten smile and your beautiful laugh. I always think about the way your soft lips felt against mine, the way I felt so undeserving and like you were the most precious treasure to ever grace this earth. I loved you. And I still do, but love makes me weak, and it breaks me down. 

You deserve the world, Mikey. You deserve someone's undying love. You deserve a love that won't put you through what ours did. 

I don't want you to think I regret what we had. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You were everything- my sunshine, my moon, my stars, my life and my world. I'm sorry.

Everything's so complicated. I'm not good for you. I'm not enough. And I'm so fucking scared of my feelings for you, they won't go away and probably won't ever go away. I can't confuse you more. It's not healthy for your well being. It's not okay. 

So I'm hiding my feelings again, I'm running from real love and fucking things up like always.

Please don't feel like it's your fault. It's mine. You did nothing wrong, okay? Don't hurt yourself. You're so strong. You have been through so much, suffered through so much and look at you. You can do this; you can do anything. Please don't lose your sparkle, babydoll. You got this. Without me. 

Take your time. Do what you need to do to appreciate yourself. You are an angel. 

-Luke


	3. one step closer to being two steps far from you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> michael was broken. 
> 
> title from infinity by one direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a quick aftermath of michael, then I'll have a luke one and maybe an epilogue .. enjoy some depressed mikey !!!

Michael brought the joint to his lips, hand shaking slightly and his body reacting like a livewire. He felt the tan paper between his fingers, smelling the intense aroma and taking a hit. 

His blonde hair stuck to his forehead, a sticky sheen of sweat dotting at his bare back between his shoulder blades, prominent from his lack of eating. 

 

His white sheets bunched up around the pale boy, his black boxers, his only article of clothing, contrasting to the blank sheet background. The clouds of smoke assimilated into the musty room, fogging up his thoughts and providing a temporary artificial numbness. 

The only color in his life was the crimson that lined his eyes, the pale pink blooming at his chest, looking like a rash as it always did when the splurged with the illegal substance.

Gram after gram, a whiskey bottle on the nightstand, Michael faded from reality and entered a realm of sticky remembrance, his memories clawing at his brain but he wouldn't quite grasp them. He felt like he was falling, sinking into the mattress as he swore saw blood cells dance around his eyelids like old home videos. His eyelids felt heavy as he squinted at the now-harsh light, every inch of him so vulnerable and so fragile but so washed out and faded. 

He did this to forget. He did this to forget about the harsh pain pulling his heart, not double it. In his slow state, he closed his eyes and saw Luke. Luke was the one dancing in his double-vision, smiling at him with those clear, pure eyes, slow dancing to All Time Low during free period in the back hall of Norwest, bedroom eyes binding him to the bed with one look in the London house, falling under his spell, intoxicated with love and passion.

Now he was intoxicated with artificial distractions,an empty, wrenching feeling in the pit of his stomach, making him want to puke, rid his body of the sickly void swallowing him whole in the dizzy haze of his mind.

Whiskey coursed through his veins, his mind rattling and shaking the images it processed, blurry faces coming into focus in his mind, and he saw a sea of blue, blobs of red and purple and white rimming his vision, swirling as he thought of the blonde that's eyes sparkled like the clumps of stars in the night sky on suburban Sydney nights. His hand also shook, grasping the glass bottle of Jack Daniel's , taking a gulp and letting his head fall back down on the soft mattress. 

Luke's kisses. Luke's 'I love you's.'  
Luke's promises. Luke's shining, glimmering eyes staring at Michael with the kind of contentment that came with a undying love. 

Michael remembers the exact feeling of Luke's hands, running up his milky white thighs in an infatuated daze, he can close his eyes and feel Luke's baby soft lips grazing the expanse of his stomach, nipping at the soft skin, a jolt of warm electricity coursing through Michael's body, heat covering his body, enveloping him in a sense of warmth. 

He remembers Luke kissing his neck, hands resting on his love handles, callused fingers indenting in soft skin, manipulating the boy like putty in his hands. Luke bit down on the snowy extent, eyes half lidded as he was overtaken with passion. Michael's fingers laced in the blonde hair, lifting his chin, letting out a choked whimper, mouth open as his eyes desperately squeezed shut. 

"P-Please don't bite," Michael heaved, pulling the blondes head away from his sternocleidomastoid.

 

Now Michael laid there, alone, high and one step closer to blacking out. Before he only was stuck in place, motionless, when he was stunned in love. He was only breathless when being kissed backstage. He had a saving grace, a constant in a life full of confusing and tempting variables. Michael can't believe himself. Only fools could fall for those eyes, dancing colors in his field of vision as he was oblivious to manipulation, a future of regret ahead.

He was frozen, no way out of this life of his. The world was still turning, but Michael was stuck in a lull that pulled him back, slowing everything down until he was just a pawn in the unmoving room. He wasn't good enough. He downed the bottle.

His eyes were half-lidded, crystal green eyes infected with a darker green algae rooting from his pupils, the blank-sheet sclera crimson with after affects of helplessness and regret.

The pain lurched in him, grabbing at his lungs and stomach, causing him to take a heavy deep breath, mouth twitching and faltering as he shut his eyes tight, tears pooling and escaping immediately. His face soon was cold with tears, the rest of his body burning like dying embers, laying helpless on the mattress.

"God dammit!" Michael screamed, taking an urgent breath and letting out a loud sob again, pink full lips pouting as his face contorted with pain and heartache. His broken heart kept beating in his chest, screaming as he denied breaths, wanting, willing it to stop. He let out loud cries as he recalled memories of Luke's caring eyes admiring his sleeping figure in the bus, his loud smile contrasting to his quiet demeanor, his whole being comforting Michael, loving Michael, and now he wasn't there, he never loved Michael, leaving Michael to feel empty and sending him into a bottomless abyss of unresponsive depression. 

Pure beads of tears streamed down his fair-skinned face, the only clarity in the dead-ended boy. "He never loved me," Michael mumbled through his tear-stained thoughts, mainly to hear his voice, assure himself this wasn't the cruelest nightmare. This was harsh reality. 

His brain slowed, his consciousness faltered, moving in reverse with no way out. He was sadly, unwillingly, unfortunately falling down, one step closer to being two steps farther from Luke. Nothing hurt more than the impending quiet ringing in his ears, the physically empty feeling in his chest.

Being with Luke seemed like a forever- an infinity in one glance and an eternity in a simple three words.

Dizzy in the aftermath, Michael blacked out, glass falling from his frail hands, hitting the ground and shattering onto the wood floor into thousands of pieces. Michael's brain danced with colors, passion possessing an invasion with red that sheeted his brain, light blue swallowing that, with patches of indigo like Luke's eyes, the blaring white of realization, all being swallowed by an ominous black. 

And he forgot about the pain.


End file.
